I remember watching that episode in which Carrie Bradshaw turns 35. It focuses on how Carrie had one of those days when everything goes wrong. Even her birthday dinner celebration turns out to be an entire fiasco, so she has to be alone until her friends rescue her. They ended up talking about the reality of soul mates in a cafe. Obviously, the chapter ends with Carrie and Mr. Big drinking champagne in a limo. At that time I was twenty something, and 35 seemed like a distant reality … of course taking as a reference series like Sex and the City, women from my generation formed a vision of glamorous thirties with the idea (that now I find distorted) that this is an age where professional and emotional success should be established at all costs, because in your twenties you are not mature enough and in your forties you are too late.
Now that I think about it, if the series would had wanted to reflect the reality of most women at 35, of course forgetting about ratings, Carrie would had been a less chaotic but somehow dreary character, who instead of writing about her relationships and her desire to find Mr. Right, would had focused her discourse on how a suburban mother could balance work and family without going mad .
Today I proudly turn 35. I don’t walk in Blahniks, I can’t afford them and have no reason to wear them. I do not drink cosmopolitans; I prefer a good bottle of wine. I have “Mr. Right for Me” and I am happy to share my life with him. I work at home, and write about the challenges of being the mom of two kids that I love more than anything in the world. I have a family scattered around the world but which is the mainstay of my existence. My most loyal companion is a Siberian Husky that loves me unconditionally. I don’t see my friends every day, but when we do get together, we can talk for hours about life, children, triumphs and failures, dreams and fears. Yes. My life is a routine for the rest of the world, but for me it is a different adventure every day and is full of joy, more than I could have imagined.
Age is just a number. Everyone takes it different, but at least I no longer see the point to set my goals and objectives depending on my age. There are no more rules than the ones you set for yourself. What matters is how we feel inside, how we let ourselves be filled by the wisdom of life, and how we enjoy it without relying on what society expects us to be a certain age. Sure, I have my wrinkle kit, a muffin top that doesn’t want to go easily, a night of partying requires a recovery week, and the forties are just around the corner (I confess that one scares me more) .
I am happy and grateful to God for what I have and what I don´t. I know what I want, where I’m going, and I am glad I can choose anything without fear. If I make a stupid mistake I get the courage to admit it and the knowledge to fix it, I have scars I carry with pride as a reminder of what these 35 years of experiences have been. For everything else there is Mastercard and plastic surgery. I just hope God allows me to live long, because I have much more to do, much more to write, much more to enjoy. Happy Birthday to me!
